


Running with the (Plot) Bunnies

by NightcoreFan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Hoo-Boy is there violence, Update whenever I get an idea, Violence, mentions of Lance's family - Freeform, random one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightcoreFan/pseuds/NightcoreFan
Summary: This is a collection of one-shots of Voltron and it's many characters. Mainly Lance though, my baby boy is so easy to write about.1- Slightly psychopathic/sociopathic Lance defending his space family





	Running with the (Plot) Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Voltron Fanfic and I'm not too sure how it went. Just be aware I have a habit of delving into gory imagery as anyone who has read my Hungry Hobbits fic will know.
> 
> It's not quite as bad in this one, luckily.  
> Please enjoy! Any kudos will be welcomed and any comments will be replied to!  
> I accept all forms of criticism so don't be afraid of pointing out something or helping me improve my writing!

Now everyone knew Lance liked to flirt, and that he had enough confidence to actually make it work, as ridiculous as it was. That he could be loud and annoying at times. That he was competitive as hell and ran through emotions faster than Coran spoke. He was the clown of the team, the one who dragged the others out of their dark thoughts with a cringe worthy joke here and a complete fail of a pickup line there.

At first glance, and second and nearly every glance after, the Cuban teen was fairly easy to figure out. He was bold, he was brash, he wore his heart on his sleeve, and he never seemed to learn that some people should just never be trusted.

The blue paladin of Voltron was a lot of things, but being ashamed of his family was not one of them.

It usually took a while, but when people actually saw the deeper layers of the team Sharpshooter, they found he was a family guy through and through. He adored his family with such ferocity, the sun paled in comparison and that, for him, when it came to his parents and siblings there were no rules or restrictions.

Many a bully learned this the hard way when they figured the darker skinned McClain’s were easy targets. All it took was one word to the middle child and the mean kids discovered the true fear of God. There was no step too far, or too harsh, for the happiness of his loved ones.

Now many families would be concerned at this thought process, fearful of the actions such intense emotions could invoke and would work swiftly to correct the behaviour. But the McClain family were fully supportive and simply accepted Lance for who he was (vindictive streak and all).

After all, they were used to such things, seeing as their mother was exactly the same.

It was no mystery to which parent Lance took after the most. In both features and personality Lance was a near carbon copy of the McClain Matriarch, she was the one to teach him all he knew after all. She gleefully tutored him in the ways of invoking true fear and pain to those who deserved it, to wait for the perfect moment to strike and to keep those dark thoughts locked away until needed.

To some this may sound a bit Serial-killer-esque, but the boy had never let it go further than a broken bone in the most extreme of cases. He was simply overprotective, not some kind of obsessed criminal.

However, being in space had changed a lot of things, war being the biggest. It brought out the best and the worst on all sides, it just so happened that the Cuban boy was just that little bit darker than the rest.

He had known the occupants had become like family to him fairly early. It hadn’t been very hard to accept them as his, after all.

Hunk had always been close to Lance’s heart. The large teen (who could probably bench-press the yellow lion with strength to spare) was, what Lance liked to call, his soul-friend. The one person in the entire universe that fit him just so perfectly it had been like they’d known each other all their lives the second they met. He was the calm to Lance’s energy and the voice of reason in the whirlwind of the blue paladin’s need for adventure.

Pidge had been a bit harder to connect to. Lance had spent most of their time in the garrison thinking she had been a trans-guy and tried to give her as much space and silent support as she needed. Years living with his brother during his transition from Julia to Javier made Lance very aware of the distant support needed else he risked triggering a panic attack.

So when it came to light that Pidge had been hiding her true gender to gain information, Lance felt like all his efforts up until that point had been for naught. His small team mate didn’t seem to have noticed his attempts to connect and focused all her energy on thinking, building and worrying. Not that he could blame her, if it had been his family who had been taken, the Galra wouldn’t have even been able to slow him down.

But soon enough, Lance noticed the casual (platonic) touches shared between them and the jokes and teasing they passed back and forth, and he knew he had gained another little sister.

Their fearless leader in some ways had been the hardest to get close to, and in others the smoothest. Shiro wanted to connect to each of his teammates nearly as much as Lance did, but at the same time he couldn’t due to the heavy responsibilities of being the Black Paladin. The PTSD from his year in captivity didn’t help either, his paranoia made him question every action they made and the lack of human interaction left him feeling like an outsider and unfamiliar with common human interactions. It took many weeks, numerous jokes and even more late night chats to feel like a true family.

Lance would never say, but Shiro was less a Space Dad and more of a clueless older brother that somehow held everything together and no one knows how.

Now, out of all the Paladins, Keith was the hardest to accept as family. Even Allura and Coran had been easier to add to the collection of people Lance called “mine”.

The mullet head rubbed him the wrong way, and he could see the feeling was mutual through every interaction. He made Lance feel like he had something to prove, that he wasn’t some useless baggage the other Paladin’s dragged along. He was always somehow better, stronger, smarter and more tolerated.

Lance got really agitated when they brushed off Keith’s reckless actions, but yelled at Lance for trying to break the tense silence. Yeah, he knew he could natter on way too much, but it almost hurt when they’d shout the second he said one word.

But, as with many things, a few near death experiences changed it ever so slightly. Whilst Lance still had the urge to prove himself every-time they made eye contact, it felt more like a brotherly rivalry than a mortal enemy kind. Like with his cousin Lila, the two being the same age created a lot of competition which lead to some of the best adventures. (If he was remembering correctly, he was winning 146 to 145 against her.)

Lance just dreaded the day those two met.

They were his now, his to love and protect and his family in outer space, as much as that boggled his mind at times. And when Lance claimed something as his, there was nothing on this side of the mortal plain that could separate them from him.

So when an overconfident Galra commander decided to threaten to hurt his newest little sister, he had all but signed his own death certificate (did Galra have death certificates anyway?).

It was supposed to be an easy mission.

Just like how the Galra base was supposed to be abandoned.

Just like how they were all supposed to be in and out.

Just like how none of them were supposed to get hurt.

The commander (Thork or whatever, Lance had never tried to remember their names and never will, there was no point), was the only Galra on the base, but he certainly made up for it with the sheer amount of droids he had at his command.

So they were all caught off guard, Lions still aboard the Castle with Allura and Coran, too far away to do anything anytime soon, and were quickly getting overwhelmed.

Lance was doing all he could as the sharpshooter of the group, close combat really not being his specialty… well not against a large number. His mother may have taught him a lot, but something told the teen that even she wasn’t prepared for giant purple space cats and their glowing droids.

So yes, he was overwhelmed trying to protect the backs of his team whilst simultaneously keeping his own ass out of the way of fire. But, in his mind, that wasn’t a good enough excuse for not noticing the surprisingly lanky Galra sneak up on their smallest member.

In fact none of them had noticed until they heard her choked off scream.

Lance whirled around, destroying the last few droids, his Bayard stable as it was aimed at the enemy. His body locked froze and his eyes widened as time seemingly stopped around the paladins, the sight in front of them being the only thing of import.

The scattered remains of their defeated enemies ignored.

Pidge was held up by the back of her neck, like some unruly kitten, though kittens don’t usually get strangled by a Galra who’s hands are basically triple the size of your own. She was facing them, clawing at the purple hand, her Bayard on the floor too far away behind the two. The look of fear and pain stark as her face got redder.

The Blue Paladin growled under his breath, he couldn’t get a good aim on the bastard purple hairball, he was using Pidge as a shield and a hostage. Both he and the Paladin’s knew that he could crush the Green’s neck easily, but they all also knew the second he did, he would have the force of 4 very pissed off Paladin’s at his throat.

And as such, they were at a stand-still.

The alien was obviously saying something, most likely bragging how he was going to bring their corpses and lions as a present to “Emperor Zarkon” like every other Empire Galran. But Lance didn’t bother even pretending to listen as he watched Pidge start to go all the colours of the lions.

With a small twitch of an eyebrow, Lance truly fell into the McClain fury and adjusted his aim. No one fucked with a McClain, especially not Lance or his mother.

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Lance watched in apathy as the purple giant screamed in agony. Only allowing a cool wave of relief to wash over him as Pidge rolled into her landing and put some distance between her and the enemy. Said enemy’s arm reached the floor only a second after, flopping lifelessly due to being separated from the body.

“You alright there, Pidge?” Hunk called. His giant beast of a gun still trained on the gasping Galra.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just need to catch my breath.” She replied, a hand rubbing at the red marks on her neck.

“Nice shot Lance!” Shiro praised.

Not that said teen was really listening. The moment he was sure Pidge was safe and relatively healthy, he began making his way to the Galra scum. Small measured steps, barely a whisper on the metallic floor, and comfortable stance stopped attention being drawn to him, from his teammates at least.

The Commander, noticing the approaching Paladin, quickly looking around, used his now only arm to grab a nearby gun-

Pow!

Only for the Blue Paladin to shoot his wrist, effectively leaving the hand useless. This time the Galra managed to keep it to a hiss of pain only to start chuckling.

“To think the Paladin’s of Voltron were so soft as to not go for the kill. You’ll end up regretting that.” That sharp smirk really pissed Lance off.

“Regret it?” Lance voiced for the first time since the mission went FUBAR. “No.”

His team glanced at him with varying degrees of worry. The teen sounded too calm, too unemotional compared to his usual exclamations. They had never seen their Blue Paladin like this, something was very wrong.

“I think you’ll find I won’t.” Lance continued. Without a single change in expression, Lance shot the Galra’s knee-caps. The two shots barely had a second between them and hit the target perfectly, no hint of an error.

Said target lost the fight with gravity instantly. His collision with the ground was loud and entirely graceless, and the realisation that he had no working limbs sunk in. His yellow eyes wide allowing the Paladins to see the bolts of fear and panic shooting through the Galran’s mind.

He wasn’t getting away, and he knew it.

Lance was still approaching. Still at the steady pace he had been doing the whole time.

The soft steps echoing through frozen scene, as no one else even dared to twitch a muscle. The uncertainty permeated the air, leaving a near detectable stench hovering around them all.

By the time Lance had reached their fallen enemy, the tension had reached an all-time high. The other Paladin’s only watched with uncertainty, they were unsure of this was their Lance, and what was wrong with the normally vibrant teen.

A gruesome wail shattered the illusion of peace, causing the four other Paladins to flinch violently. Even Shiro was unable to suppress the urge to squeeze his eyes closed, only to open them to a sight of horror.

Lance looked down apathetically, letting the spikes of noise wash over him as he ground his heel into the burnt and bleeding flesh of what was once the enemy’s knee.

“My Mama taught me that letting a piece of trash die quickly was just a waste.” The monotonic state of his voice cut through the weak mewls and pants of his prisoner. “As she always says: ‘If someone has done something that deserves their deaths, then they deserve so much worse.’ And as they say; momma knows best.”

He once again raised his Bayard, his cool expression chipped ever so slightly as to let a toothy smirk slip from his control.

Pidge and Hunk were forced to look away as the gun was fired again and again and again. Their eyes shut tight despite facing another way, flinching at the seemingly never ending its rain of blasts into the gurgling mess.

Shiro and Keith were not so lucky; their bodies would not obey their demands to move. The Black and Red paladins were forced to watch the bloody carnage, along with the source grinning remorselessly as the gore and pain he was inflicting.

After what felt like eons, the noise and chaos ceased. Lance now glared down to the silent husk under his foot with boredom, as though the mush that was once a Galran warrior was to blame for the “fun” to end.

With a deep unsatisfied sigh, the Blue Paladin returned his Bayard to its home and turned to his team, the familiar goofy grin placed easily on his features.

“Well that was a mess!” He exclaimed, making his way back the way the team had come, “I can’t wait to get back to the Castleship and get something to eat. I am starving!”

The others could only watch in horror as the Cuban pretty much **skip** whilst dripping with the lilac liquid that once belonged inside the body of Commander Thork.

Safe to say Hunk wasn’t the only one to throw up that day.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
